


The Cupid's Arrow (revised edition)

by TenRoseForeverandever



Series: Domestic Bliss [12]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Aphrodisiacs, F/M, Fluff, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 06:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9706457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TenRoseForeverandever/pseuds/TenRoseForeverandever
Summary: Rose convinces the Doctor to take her to "Planet Valentine" for a lark.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Caedmon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caedmon/gifts).



> I have been meaning to tidy this story up for a while now! What better occasion than _this_ year's Valentine's Day. (No major revisions; just housekeeping.) The original will stand as it is, as part of my Domestic Bliss series.  
>  Second half to be posted tomorrow!.
> 
> (This revised edition will only be posted here, on AO3 and on Tumblr.)
> 
> Dedicated to Caedmon, who has told me this one of her favourite stories of mine. ((((hugs)))) darling.

“Honestly, Rose! The things I do for you! Your Nan’s birthday!” the Doctor whinged.

“Well, you _could_ just drop me off, and come back for me later…,” Rose nervously fingered her cheek, “but I wouldn’t mind the company. ‘S not exactly gonna be a wild party.” She rolled her eyes. “And it _would_ be better with two.” She coyly bumped her shoulder against his leather-clad arm, and flashed him her Rose Tyler-patented tongue-touched smile.  

“I suppose…” he began, and Rose’s grin widened significantly. She had him: hook, line, and sinker. “But I’m not going to sit there and listen to some old biddies prattling on about their knitting patterns or what happened on EastEnders yesterday.”

“Nah, don’t worry, Doctor. We’ll lay low, yeah. And we can play that game.  You know, the one we played at that booooring convention on Mugwarf:  “Guess the Alien”. I’m sure loads of Nan’s friends could easily be mistaken for aliens. Very dangerous, old ladies are… There’s one – oh my _God!_ – I swear she’s a Raxicori… um Racico… Slitheen! I’ll be lookin’ for the zipper, I will!”

“Hmmph,” he grumbled grudgingly. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Rose Tyler,” he performed his dance around the TARDIS console flipping switches in a seemingly random sequence as she watched, bemused, “I will never quite understand the human proclivity to commemorate certain dates! You lot and your need to compartmentalize everything into neat, little categories!  A lot of fuss over nothing, if you ask me!”

“Yeah, well we like it,” she proclaimed.  “Gives order to things. This travellin’s excitin’ and all (I love it, Doctor!) but it gets so… timeless sometimes, yeah. Now and then I feel like I need somethin’, you know… real to hold onto… to keep me from goin’ spare.”

He responded by grabbing her hand, entwining their fingers. “You have _me_.”

“Yeah, I do,” she beamed up at him, stunned by his rather significant little statement, and pressed her cheek gently against the cool leather of his sleeve, breathing in the comforting scent of him.

“Hold on tight, Rose,” he warned as, still gripping her hand, he flipped the final lever that sent the TARDIS spinning wildly through the vortex.

\--oOo--

Several hours later, hands swinging, linked between them, they walked back to the TARDIS from the Tyler flat, chattering cheerfully to one another. “Blimey, Doctor! I nearly weed myself when old Tessie pinched your cheek and told you what a handsome young man you were!” Rose burst into gales of laughter. “If she only _knew!_ ”

“Oh, laugh all you want, little ape.” His expression suddenly sobered. “I’m just relieved _Jackie_ didn’t have a go at me.” He subconsciously lifted his hand to his cheek.

Rose just laughed the louder, taking advantage of his insecurity. “I swear Tessie fancies you! And it’s nearly Valentine’s Day, Doctor,” she sing-songed. “Maybe she wants you to be her Vaaaalentine, yeah? What d’ya think, Doctor? She’s nearly your age and all!”

“You can shut up now, you!” he reproved with a growl, dropping her hand.

Rose felt her heart sink at the loss of the strong, reassuring grip, an enduring symbol of their friendship since the first day they had met. She was silent for a long moment, her mood turning sullen. When she finally spoke, it was in a sour tone: “Now there’s a rubbish celebration…” The disagreeable subject fit rather well with her change in mood.

“What’s that?”

“Valentine’s Day! One human date we could very well do without commemorating!” she huffed, stuffing her hands into her pockets.

“Why’s that, then? Ricky forget to bring you chocolates and flowers?” he taunted, a possessive smirk curling his lips. He reached for her hand again, and gave a disgruntled snort when he found it absent. Rose kept it pointedly tucked in her jacket.  

“It’s jus’, ya know, it sets people up with a lot of false expectations. It’s forced.  It’s fake. And all the pressure: what to give; how much to give; and who really wants chocolate and roses and dumb poetry anyway? And, then, when you don’t have someone to celebrate with… it’s so lonely, yeah.”  She pulled her hand out and linked her arm through his, her lips twitching up a little when she heard him release a self-satisfied sigh.

“And to think, your lot created a planet entirely dedicated to Saint Valentine and his day.”

“No way! You’re takin’ the mick! Really?”

“Oh yes, Rose. You intrepid little humans, you forge your way out across the galaxy, bringing all of your traditions and customs with you. There must a special planet for every Old Earth holiday, and then some! Species from all around come to partake in human traditions! It’s a huge tourist industry. Just imagine!” He pulled out his key to open the TARDIS door, and let Rose step in ahead of him.

“You’re serious?”

“Yup!”

“Prove it.”

“What? Now?”

“Yeah.”

“Aren’t you tired?”

“Nope. You?”

“Of course not, Rose. Time Lord, remember?”

“Well then, _Time Lord_ … take me to this Valentine’s planet.”

“Thought you hated Valentine’s Day.”

“I do. But this might be good for a lark.  Could be fun: people watching. Guessing what their relationships are, yeah.  Married; first date; newly-weds. Like that!” 

“Rose Tyler, you and your games! Alright, then, you asked for it.” He strode to the console and began to set the coordinates. “But I’m warning you. Stay away from love potions and aphrodisiacs of any kind. Let me taste _anything_ you plan to eat. My sensitive taste buds can detect any of them, and,” he grinned cheekily at her, “my superior physiology can neutralize them in record time!”

“You really think you’re _so_ impressive, don’t you?”

“I am!  And most importantly, no wandering off. All I need is a lovesick Rose Tyler on my hands. Bad enough as it is, sullying the TARDIS with all your domestics: trips home to see _Mummy_ ; grocery shopping; laundry…”

“Oi, you invited me! Twice!”

“All I’m saying is that I want you to be safe, Rose.”

She gave him a little kiss on the cheek. “I know, Doctor. Let’s go, yeah?  I’ll be careful, promise.”

\--oOo--

Rose poked her head out the TARDIS doors. “Doctor, this is soooo cheesy! Raining rose petals? Really?”

“Not too late to turn back…” The Doctor peered out distastefully at the red, pink, and white glitter that was Planet Valentine.

“No chance! This is brilliant!” She grabbed his hand and dragged him out into the shower of drifting petals. Letting go of him, she twirled around ecstatically in wonder. “Doctor, this may just be enough to make me see Valentine’s day in a whole new light!” She stopped spinning to face him, and found him with an incongruous grin brightening his face. She swore his eyes actually twinkled at her. “W’at? W’at is it Doctor?”

“Oh, c’mon, you.” He switched rapidly to a more surly expression, as was customary when he had been caught looking at her. “Let’s get this over with.” He took her hand again and directed her to what looked like the main street, filled with throngs of creatures representing species from all across the galaxy, although the majority appeared to be human… or human-ish.

Rose observed most of the planet’s visitors walked around in pairs, although a few individuals strolled about, either procuring gifts for a significant other or perhaps seeking companionship.  Then she saw something remarkable: “Doctor? Those blue, glowing people over there… do you see them?”

“Those are Trinitarians, Rose. Their skin begins to glow like that at the peak of their reproductive cycle. Truly beautiful species.”

“Yeah, they are,” Rose sighed in awe at the tall, slender, willowy forms whose skins seemed to dance with shimmering blue radiance. “But there are three of them? Do they need three to reproduce?”

“Blimey! Aren’t you perceptive? Clever!”

“No need to sound so surprised.” Rose couldn’t help but feel miffed by the Doctor’s double-edged compliment, and let it show in the tone of her voice. 

She was aware of the Doctor glancing warily down at her as he forged ahead on the topic of the Trinitarians: “There aren’t many species that need three participants for procreation, but _they_ do. There are a handful of others, too. Mind you, it’s not the _most_ complicated mating system out there. Now, take the Spredifriat-mwooguds from the Delta-Frimori Sector! They–”

“Blimey, that must be a difficult relationship, yeah? Imagine how hard it is, even for us humans. I’ve been searching for ages just to find _one_ decent bloke out there. I can’t imagine how complicated it would be if I needed to find two!” She nestled into his arm again, suddenly needing the comfort of his presence.

“C’mon. How about some hot chocolate?”

“You buyin’? ‘Cause I don’t have any credits.”

“Yeah, ‘course. Still owe you for those chips, don’t I?  If I remember correctly, there’s a little shop just down the street that makes the best hot chocolate in the galaxy. They even put heart-shaped marshmallows in it!”

“So, you come here often, then? To the Valentine planet… the planet of loooove,” she ribbed him.

“Very funny.” He crossed his arms defensively over his chest, and glowered at her. “It just so happens that I’ve had a sweet tooth… in the past. And if you want a chocolate fix, ‘The Cupid’s Arrow’ is the place! They specialize in exotic chocolates from around the universe. Bon-bons and fudge and… ah, but, you mentioned earlier that you didn’t really care for chocolate. I’m probably just wasting your time taking you there.”

“I never said I didn’t like chocolate!” Rose blurted. “Just think they’re a rubbish Valentine gift, s’all.” She flushed at the sight of the smug grin that spread across his face. “Oh shut up and get me some of that hot chocolate. And just for givin’ me that cheek, you can spring for a nice, big piece of fudge, too.”

“Done!”

\--oOo--

Hand in hand, they walked into the shop. The décor was flamboyantly tacky: walls, ceiling, and floor painted in a trompe-l’oeil chocolate bar motif. Tables for two hovered on micro-gravity platforms, showers of heart-shaped confetti sprinkling down in a twinkling column over each red and white laced tablecloth. Ultra-high definition holographic cherubs darted around the tables, shooting little holographic arrows at seated customers. Against one wall was an enormous display cabinet with the largest assortment of chocolate sweets Rose had ever seen. Several customers were buying the confections to take away in shiny heart-shaped boxes wrapped in extravagant glittering tulle ribbon.

Rose fought to supress the giggle that threatened to erupt from her throat. “Oh, this place is just so… you!” She broke into howls of laughter, unable to hold in her mirth any longer.

“Just you wait, Rose Tyler,” the Doctor responded with his see-how-clever-I-am smile. “When you taste that hot chocolate for the first time, you’ll understand why I am able to put up with all this. I’ll be waiting for the apology.”

“You’ll be waitin’ a–” Her tart remark was cut off when a tall, wispy alien with purple skin, and a towering, domed head approached them.

“Table for two?” He spoke in a high-pitched, reedy voice, accompanied by a distinct roll of his emerald-green eyes. “As if it would be anything else around here,” he remarked disdainfully.

“Yes, please!” the Doctor chirped, seemingly oblivious to the Maître-d’s acerbic comment.

Rose goggled as the Maître-d’ punched some codes into a touch screen device and led them to a table that descended, confetti stream disengaged, ready for them to board. He pulled a chair out for Rose, and then one beside her for the Doctor. “Please place your order from the menu on the touch screen in the centre of the table. When you wish to disembark, just notify me by tapping the red heart at the top of the screen. Enjoy your stay at ‘The Cupid’s Arrow’. Please leave smitten.”

“Oh, we’re not together… not like that,” Rose announced, sitting down. “Just mates, yeah.”

“Pffffft,” the Maître-d’ hissed, “of course you are. Just look at the two of you! Just like every other couple that comes in here. Sickening really,” he added under his breath.

“Excuse me?” Rose bristled at him. She felt the Doctor tense up in the chair next to her.

The Maître-d’ gave a thin, squeaky gasp, “My sincere, apologies, Miss!”

 “’S all right, mate.”  She forced herself to relax and smiled warmly at him. “Sounds like you need a vacation. What’s your name, then? I’m Rose, and this is the Doctor.”

“Hello!” The Doctor waved cheerily.

“I am called Zoorgraps. Please enjoy your refreshment. In just a moment, your table will ascend, and you may place your orders.” His expression, Rose noted, still seemed perturbed and angry, but maybe that was just the way his species was. “If you’ll excuse me…” he whiffled, and drifted off to greet another couple at the door.

Rose opened her mouth to comment on Zoorgraps’ attitude to the Doctor, when she suddenly found herself gripping the sides of her chair in momentary shock as the table began to rise up off the floor. She glanced at the Doctor, a little peeved at his nonchalance, and quickly schooled her features to one of casual indifference. The confetti curtain (holographic also, she noted) resumed its descent around the table. She tried to pass her hands through it and was startled when a mild buzzing resistance impeded her.

“Forcefield,” the Doctor smirked at her, “to prevent us from tumbling to our doom.”

“Oh, well, that makes sense.” She flushed at her naïvety and quickly changed the topic. “So, what are you having?”

“Oh, I’m not hungry.”

“What? You’re going to watch me stuff my face? I don’t think so! Please, Doctor? Anyway, I thought you said you had a sweet tooth.”

“Yeah, not so much this time ‘round.” Rose was perplexed by his choice of words, but immediately dismissed it to a place at the back of her mind as he continued to speak. “But, I suppose a banana hot chocolate with whipped cream would provide a nice boost of energy.”

\--oOo--

While the Doctor placed the orders, Rose became engrossed in observing the customers at surrounding tables. “Look at those two, Doctor! What ya think? They’re _way_ beyond first date. I bet they just got engaged! Oh, my God! They’re _feeding_ each other!” She began to laugh, wrapping an arm around her stomach in a hopeless effort to control herself. “ _Definitely._   Engaged! Or about to be…”

“I dunno, Rose,” the Doctor looked up, having finished placing their order, “I think they might be beyond engaged.”

“Why’s that then?”

“Because Rose,” he gestured with a nod of his head at the couple in question, “while he’s feeding her with one hand, the other hand is occupied in a much more entertaining activity.”

“You’re havin’ me on! _Oh_ – _my_ – _God!_ ” Rose felt the heat of a blush redden her cheeks as she glanced under the couples’ table. “Well that explains why she looks so dreamy and flushed, then. I am officially upgradin’ their status to newly-wed!”

“That seems more appropriate, I’d say,” he agreed, infuriatingly unflustered by the activities at the next table.

“’Course, could be anything… they’re probably just randy, or this could be... normal behaviour for the, what was it? 47th Century…?” Rose’s attention was (thankfully) soon diverted by the arrival of a tiny flying droid. Its body was a sparkly fuchsia, and its heavily lashed eyes were bright red, heart-shaped deely-boppers. Rose sputtered in shock as it delivered their food, confirming their order in a sultry voice.

The Doctor chortled at Rose’s bemused reaction. “It’s all jus’ a lot to take in, ya know,” she stammered, “what with Mr. Happy Hands and the wife sittin’ next door, and Lou-Lou the Love-Bot delivering the–” She was interrupted by a muffled, impassioned cry from the woman at the next table, causing Rose to roll her eyes in an attempt to affect disdain and indifference.

The Doctor simply chuckled harder. “Keep up, Rose! I thought you’d be over the culture shock, by now,” he teased mercilessly. 

“Shut up. ‘S not like that stuff didn’t go on ‘round the Estate, but it wasn’t done out there for everyone to see: usually down some dark alley… or on the dance floor at one of those seedy clubs. And the robot’s just daft! Besides, you’ve had nine hundred years to get used to all this. I haven’t even had nine months!”

“Still, Rose…” He gulped down his mug of hot chocolate in one swig. “Oi, what’s goin’ on down there?” he asked, responding to the noise of shouting rising from below.

Rose craned her neck to give her the best view of the floor of the restaurant through the confetti forcefield. “Looks like our friend, Zoorgraps, has gone completely bonkers, he has! Right cheesed off about somethin’. He’s natterin’ on about how unfair life is, havin’ to work here. Doctor, he’s getting really worked up… Doctor?”

Rose looked across at the Doctor. He was leaning on his elbow, chin in his palm, gazing at her dreamily. “Doctor?” her voice rose in alarm. “Earth to Doctor…” She waved her hand in front of his face.

“Right here, Rose. Don’t worry, love, I’ll never leave you.”

“Right comforting, that is! Not quite relevant, though, Doctor.  Wait… did you just call me ‘love’?” She felt a strong prickle of concern rush over her. “Doctor, could you answer me a question, then?”

“For you, my Rose, I would do anything.”

“Yeah, ‘bout that… Did you happen to detect an aphrodisiac in that hot chocolate of yours? Just guessin’… on the off chance… that you did, yeah?”

“Oh, yes! There was enough potion in there to make a Geruhundian Greehog fall in love with an Ooktee.”

“Thought so.” She wrinkled her nose in trepidation. “And your superior physiology…?

“Still superior, but that _was_ a rather large dose... You know, that’s what I love about you, Rose! So observant! So beautiful… and _not_ just for a human.” He snatched her hand from where it lay across the table, pressing his lips to the back of it. 

Rose shivered, and quickly turned away from his piercing stare. She was about to suggest that they get back to the TARDIS post-haste, when she became aware of an enormous commotion, not just from Zoorgraps at floor level, but also taking place in the air all around her: it seemed the holographic cherubs were continuing to fly about, shooting arrows at customers, but the arrows were no longer holographic recreations. They were very real and very dangerous.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose has her work cut out for her as she struggles with the threat of killer cherubs and the advances of a love-sick Doctor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!  
> What follows is a heap of fluff, a scoop of drama, topped off with a dollop of angst!  
> Hope you enjoy!

Several of the customers were already seriously wounded. Rose frantically attempted to track the cherubs flitting around, looking positively… angelic as they hurled deadly darts at the hysterical clientele of The Cupid’s Arrow. The restaurant, it seemed, was living up to its name.

“How are they getting’ through the forcefield? Doctor? How?” Rose desperately clung to her mind’s remnants of calm and rationality, but between the killer cherubs and the love-sick Doctor, it was, frankly, a bit of a challenge.

“No forcefield can keep me from you, my love…”

“Oh, it’s one way, isn’t it?  Like one-way glass. The robot was able to deliver our food, and the cherubs’ arrows can get through, too!” She grinned at her revelation.

“Oh, Rose, always thinking. Fantastic, you are! You and your brilliant mind!”

“Doctor, I need you to concentrate, please!” She glanced through the confetti once more and saw that Zoorgraps was darting maniacally around, eagerly watching the progress of the cherubs, egging them on in his shrill, piping voice, seemingly controlling them from his touchscreen device. “Zoorgraps,” she shouted, “please stop this! This is wrong. Please, listen to me!”

The purple-skinned alien turned his thin face toward her, madness flashing in his eyes. “See! Look at your booooyfriend,” he wheezed at Rose. “And you said you weren’t in love. Everyone who comes here is in love. You cannot deny it!  But who loves Zoorgraps? No one! No _one_ will ever be right for me. And you lot deny your love; complain about how complicated love is, when it’s so easy for you.  After tonight, though, after tonight you’ll never complain again…”

Rose quickly determined that the Maître-d’ was not only controlling the cherubs but was also most likely responsible for tampering with the Doctor’s drink. She was just fortunate she hadn’t taken a sip of her own beverage: one of the two of them needed to be able to concentrate on stopping the massacre that was developing around them, and the Doctor, it seemed, was currently incapable of rational thought. She tried to keep her mind focussed as he pressed kisses up the inside of her arm. “Oh for the love of…” she muttered to herself.

“Love, Rose? Did you say you love me too?” the Doctor crooned.

Zoorgraps’ hysterical voice fluted up from below. “You will die along with all the rest of the lovers. You are nothing… undeserving of love! So unwilling to accept what is right in front of you, when it is so simple just to reach out and take it.” With that he adjusted the cherubs’ course towards Rose and the Doctor.

Rose, very aware of the danger that she and the Doctor were facing, strived to reason with the insane, violet alien. “Zoorgraps, there is someone out there for everyone. Really, there is. You just have to find the right person for you. It’ll happen. This isn’t helping anyone. Listen to me! Please stop!” She glanced up to see a cherub flying directly for their table. “Doctor! Duck!” As the cherub took aim, Rose flung her arms around the Doctor’s neck, pulling him to one side. She felt the breeze of the arrow as it passed over her right shoulder: too close by half!

“Oh, Rose! You’re such an enthusiastic lover! I can hardly wait either. I just want to get my hands on your, might I say, very lovely–”

“Doctor,” Rose whispered urgently in his ear, “your screwdriver!”

“You naughty little minx, you! I like the way you think.”

Out of sheer desperation, Rose decided to humour the Doctor and schooled her voice to a provocative tone. “Doctor, I know what you want,” she sighed. “I want it too, yeah.”

“Oh, yeah!”

The love-struck expression on his face told Rose that reasoning logically with him would be challenging, but she was determined to get through to him. “But we need to get out of here first: then we can head back to the TARDIS.”

He leered at her. “Yes, the TARDIS! Against the console, Rose. I’ve always pictured you–”

“Doctor!” She shoved him to one side again, as another arrow missed them by mere inches. She collected her scrambled thoughts before she spoke to the Time Lord again. “Doctor, Zoorgraps won’t bring our table down.” She forced her voice to tones of heavy sensuality, as much as she could, considering the panic that was threatening to overwhelm her. “Maybe you could… I dunno… override his controls with your screwdriver… get us down. And then…” She coaxed her mouth into a lascivious smile, deliberately allowing her tongue to poke through her teeth at the corner of her mouth: she was sure that drove him crazy even when he was sober.

His eyes immediately sought her lips (success!) “A plan, love! Well done! Fantastic!”

“Well, get on with it then!” she spluttered as a cherub spun around to aim at them from below.

“Patience, love.” He pulled out his sonic, wrapping his arm around Rose as he aimed it at the menu panel.

“Doctor! Hurry! God, if only the forcefield worked the other way ‘round, so that the arrows couldn’t hit us.”

“Oh, but that’s too _easy_ , Rose! Genius, that I am, I could do that before you could say Raxacoricofallapatorius,” the Doctor boasted.

“Blimey, we don’t have _that_ long! But, impress me, Doctor. Go on, then.”

The screwdriver activated. “Done!” the Doctor announced.

Rose sighed in relief. “But now we could fall. Am I right?”

“Yup. Now about that plan for getting back to the TARDIS:  yes, Rose, against the console; specifically, you naked against the console.”

“A bit cold for that, don’t you think, Doctor,” Rose squeaked.

“You could wear my jacket, love. I’m a gentleman: I’d lend you my jacket.”

Screams from the rest of the restaurant diverted Rose’s attention from the amorous Time Lord. “They’re attacking everyone! Can’t we help them?”

“Only if we get down there,” he pointed to Zoorgraps, “and get a hold of that controller of his.”

“ _Well_? What are we waiting for?” Rose yelped, hoping the Doctor was showing a glimmer of returning to a state common sense. “Let’s go!”

“Rose, what about us? The TARDIS? Naked?” Rose felt her hopes plunging to the floor where Zoorgraps stomped around hysterically.

“Well, we need to get down there, yeah! Save the day! And then, Doctor, we can celebrate…” She licked her lips enticingly, and fluttered her lashes.

“Eh, they can look after themselves. I think our needs are more important than these… strangers.” He waved his hand dismissively at the panicked people around them.

Rose rolled her eyes, her exasperation  at the single-minded alien peaking, and devised some desperate measures she felt might charm him to take appropriate action: “Doctor,” she hummed his name, placing a warm hand between his hearts. “God, it turns me on when you take charge: when you act so brave and bring villains to justice! You are so fit. Fit and manly... and just, well… hot!” She cringed in horror at her words. Not because she didn’t mean them: just the opposite. But, the real truth was that he would be terribly embarrassed when the potion wore off, and he would think she was having him on, when really…  Not that she would actually say that kind of thing out loud (on a normal day,) but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel it, fantasize about it, hope that… just, not like this, with him affected by an aphrodisiac.

“Well, what are we waiting for then, Rose Tyler? Prepare to be turned on!” He adjusted the settings on his sonic and pointed it at the touch screen again. “Going down, love. Now, when we get to the bottom, the forcefield should deactivate automatically, leaving us open to attack. Take shelter! I _will_ protect you!”

“Got it,” she acknowledged, making a solemn vow to herself to disregard his instructions completely. As if she would hide somewhere like some coward while he put his life on the line. “Let’s go!” she urged.

The blue light flashed and Rose heard the screwdriver buzz next to her ear. The table lurched a little and began its descent. Rose kept her eyes on Zoorgraps, ready to take action the second the table landed and the forcefield deactivated. “Doctor,” Rose inquired, “what species is Zoorgraps? Never seen one of them before.”

“That’s what I love about you, Rose. Always thinking. Nothing gets my hearts thumping like a great mind. Ah, and you’re gorgeous, too! A perfect package… The things I want to do to you, Rose, when we get back–”

“His species, Doctor?”

“I was rather surprised to see him here, actually. They hardly ever leave their planet, the Spredifriat-mwooguds. It’s really unusual.”

“Why does that name sound familiar?”

“Well, I was starting to tell you about them earlier, and while I’d love to impress you with my extensive knowledge–”

“Oh, I _love_ to hear you speakin’ all intelligent-like and sciencey. God, Doctor, just thinkin’ about listenin’ to your voice makes me all…” She bravely reached out and stroked his cheek, pulling herself closer to him. “Tell me,” she commanded in a whisper that brushed his parted lips.

“Blimey, I was starting to tell you about them earlier, but you must have distracted me with your sexy–”

“Gah! Doctor, we’re already half way down! Jus’ the facts, yeah.”

“Your wish is my command, Miss Tyler!”

“Get on with it, then, yeah! Before we land!”

“Ahhhh, Rose the dominatrix! So strong and forceful! My fantasy girl!” He rumbled, “Maybe the TARDIS can find you a nice, tight, leather–”

“Oh, my God! Doctor, we’ll be landin’ any second! Quick, tell me about the Spredy-moomoo-whatsits. Jus’ the basics.”

“Not your _basic_ species, Rose. Their mating practices are extremely complicated.” The Doctor began a discourse with no apparent sense of urgency. “Five bonded individuals, of five different genders. Just imagine! And each of them must contribute genetic material in order to produce offspring. The ultra-female is the ultimate host to the offspring, but they go through different larval forms, carried by the primary and secondary females, both of whom receive genetic material from the primary male, before the larvae are transferred to their incubation pouches. The females provide their combined genetic material once the larva has attached itself to her. The ultra-male contributes genetic material only to the ultra-female, but all five must be present and working together through each sexual act. The love they all feel for one another is very strong.”

Rose squinted at the Doctor as she rapidly tried to absorb the information he was throwing at her. “But…”

“Oh, it’s very complicated, Rose. Each member of the bond has a different role in each stage of genetic transfer, but each one must be present every time. Beyond that, very little is known: very mysterious the Spredifriat-mwooguds are! They hardly ever leave their planet, because it’s just so difficult to find compatible bond-mates. It is very odd to find one on its own. And they’re usually so peaceable… with four other partners you have to be.  This one is plain bonkers!”

“Poor Zoorgraps! We have to help him, Doctor, yeah? Bein’ alone must be makin’ him go completely spare,” Rose sympathized. As the table landed and the forcefield dissipated, her eyes shot to Zoorgraps whose face was flushed with indigo blotches, his green eyes wild as he furiously tapped in commands for the cherubs. Screams from the customers rang through the air with each shot, somewhat moderating Rose’s compassionate sentiments toward the mad alien, and urging her to action. “We need to get a hold of that touch screen of his!”

“Keep behind the table, Rose,” the Doctor responded curtly, pushing her down to conceal her presence from the maniacal Maître-d’. At the tone of his command, her gaze snapped to his. The look in his eyes told her he had overcome the worst of the effects of the aphrodisiac. This was the real Doctor, her Doctor, who was trying to keep her safe. He strode toward Zoorgraps, bristling with authority, screwdriver brandished like a weapon.

Rose’s eyes roved the restaurant and she realized all the cherubs were now trained on the Doctor, closing fast from all directions. “Doctor! Look out!” she yelped, leaping up from her place of safety to go to his aid.

“Stay where you are, Rose!”

She froze, but found herself muttering under her breath, “Not bloody likely.” How could he expect her to stay hidden when she could be out there helping him; helping the people panicking all around her.  Rose moved out from behind the table stealthily, keeping an eye on the cherubs.

“Look, Zoorgraps, you don’t have to do this. I can help,” the Doctor spoke in a firm, quiet voice.  With a nonchalance only he could master, he responded to an incoming arrow with a casual flick of the sonic screwdriver. The arrow zinged harmlessly out of the air.  Followed by another. The Doctor smiled self-assuredly. “Is that all you’ve got then, Zoorgraps? Little arrows shot by little naked angels?” Zoorgraps’ mouth worked silently in frustration and he rapidly tapped additional commands into his controller, sending more arrows flying at the Doctor.

Rose having stolen a quick glance at the Doctor, and having seen that, for now, he was dispatching the threat of Zoorgraps’ arrows with ease, turned her attention to the frantic people around her. With the arrows all now aimed at one target, the customers and staff who had been at ground level were wasting no time in using the reprieve to their benefit and were beginning to race from the restaurant, assisting others or dragging injured companions with them.

Rose rushed to the side of a man who was desperately trying to haul his unconscious partner, who had an arrow protruding from his shoulder, toward the door.  “C’mon, mate,” she laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, “lemme help, yeah.”

The man nodded, eagerly accepting her aid.  Together they lifted the injured man and took him outside. “You’re safe now, I think. Make sure you apply pressure to that wound. And don’t move him again until proper help comes,” Rose instructed, turning to run back to the centre of the conflict.

As she reached the doorway, Rose had to fight her way past the people struggling to get out. Several minutes had passed since the Doctor had tried to engage Zoorgraps, and a quick glance told her that the Maître-d’ still had possession of the control pad. Rose quickly ushered the rest of the frightened customers out, offering reassurances where she could. The customers high in the air at their tables were still trapped, though, and she knew many of them were injured as Zoorgraps had concentrated most of his initial attack at those who had been helplessly confined to the floating platforms. Their broken whimpers and pleas for aid interrupted the now relative stillness of the room. She needed to get that pad!

The Doctor was occupying Zoorgraps’ full attention, and Rose was able to slip past the two combatants, behind the last, straggling customers leaving the building. The cries of the injured people above her, and the zing of deflected arrows muffled any noise she made. Sneaking up behind a display cabinet, she peered out, ready to pounce at the tall, thin Maître-d’.  Watching for an opportunity to attack, and observing the Doctor’s movements, Rose noticed the Doctor was attempting to target the control pad with his sonic between attacks. It seemed that getting _a hold_ of the pad was not, in fact, imperative: just _distracting_ Zoorgraps might be enough. She heaved a sigh of relief. Looking at the sheer size of her target in comparison to herself, she didn’t think she would be very successful in any attempt, however unexpected, to overpower the big, wiry alien.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped out from behind the cabinet. The Doctor’s eyes, widening in terror, locked on hers.  “Rose, no!”

She ignored him. “Zoorgraps,” she struggled to maintain a steady voice, “please, listen to the Doctor. He can help. We can help. ‘S what we do.”

The alien wheeled around, his eyes sparking with madness, face contorted with fury. He pounced toward Rose, towering over her, and she shrank back in alarm. He hissed at her, “You can’t help me! No one can. I am alone.”

“We could take you home… back to… back to your family. Back home. You don’t have to be alone.”

In a chilling response to her entreaty, he smirked at her, his fingers flying across the control pad. Suddenly one of the cherubs was veering toward her, its deadly dart poised to fly. “Now we shall see how easily your heart can be broken,” Zoorgraps sneered in a demented wheeze.

She stood frozen to the spot, barely able to breathe, eyes fixed on the arrow that was aimed directly for her heart. Briefly, her eyes flitted to the Doctor’s and took in his agonized expression, as he countered the attacks of the other cherubs but still managed to hold her gaze.

Zoorgraps didn’t miss the exchange. He cackled, addressing the Doctor, “Your heart will be broken, too, if this one dies! Not in love? We shall see.”

“No, I don’t think we shall,” the Doctor intoned dispassionately.

The arrow flew. Rose’s instincts screamed at her to move, to dive to one side, to get the hell out of there. But she was in a stupor, her body immobilized with terror, despair, disbelief. Everything seemed to slow down around her, and all she could make sense of was the dart hurtling toward her heart, and the anguish on the Doctor’s face.

_I wouldn’t have missed it for the world…_

The arrow never struck. It veered harmlessly away, clattering to the floor, the sharp sound instantly rousing her from her trance.  In horror, she realized the Doctor had deflected the arrow trained at her, leaving himself open to direct attack. She watched helplessly as he lunged to one side, dodging the arrows and thrusting the sonic screwdriver over the floor toward her. A shriek ripped from her throat as she dove face first, past Zoorgraps’ feet, to snatch the device as it skittered towards her. Feeling the comforting weight of it in her hands, she rolled onto her back and aimed it up at the underside of the control pad, and activated it.

Everything went quiet, the air still and tense. The holographic cherubs fizzled from existence, the clatter of the little silver arrows on the floor the only sound in the hushed room.

It seemed like an eternity before Rose remembered to breathe, scrabbling desperately on hands and knees to where the Doctor knelt on the ground. “God, Doctor, you okay?” she inquired, voice low, but urgent. Worry consuming her, she began inspecting the Doctor’s back, convinced she’d find arrows protruding from him like porcupine quills.  There was only one, embedded in the sole of his shoe, directly below his heel.

He yanked it out, and handed it to her. “There you go, Rose,” he ground out, “a souvenir.” He sprang to his feet, Rose scrambling up beside him, pointedly leaving the arrow behind.

Suddenly a strange keening noise filled the air. Rose turned toward the sound: Zoorgraps crumpled into a heap on the ground, wailing. With a reassuring touch to the Doctor’s arm, she stepped forward, and tentatively crouched down beside the distraught Maître-d’. “Hey… shhhh. It’s all over, yeah.” She tugged the control pad out of the alien’s limp fingers and passed it to the Doctor, who immediately activated the pad to bring the stranded customers to safety.

 “You be careful,” the Doctor’s gruff voice cautioned her. She nodded at him mutely, as he turned away and stalked off to help the victims disembark from their tables.

As medics finally arrived to take care of the injured patrons, Rose turned her attention back to the distraught Zoorgraps. “We’ll get you home; get you back to your family. The Doctor can be very persuasive when it comes to dealin’ with the law…”

“I can’t go back! Never! There’s nothing left for me there,” he bemoaned in his fluting voice, now quivering with distress.

Rose comforted him as best she could. She placed an arm around his shoulders, causing him to shrink away from her touch. Despite his initial reaction, he didn’t specifically tell her to stop, so she persevered, and eventually he relaxed into her arms.

“I should not feel comfort from this… it is wrong…”

“Why?”

“You are not family… only family are permitted to touch so intimately.”

Rose immediately withdrew. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know… didn’t mean…”

“No… thank-you, Miss Rose. You are kind, and you have made me feel more like myself than I have done for several years now.”

She smiled cheerlessly at him, “Glad I could help.” They sat together, just talking, for several long minutes more.

“Rose,” the Doctor approached, speaking quietly, “the police are here.”

Zoorgraps rose to his full height, seeming to unfold before Rose’s eyes, and with quiet dignity, submitted himself to the authorities.

\--oOo--

“Can’t we help him? He’s so lonely.” Rose trotted after the Doctor as he strode through the showers of rose petals back to the TARDIS.

“Rose, he’s just lucky nobody got killed today,” the Doctor reproved impatiently.

“He’s lost everyone… all his family in a fire. His life-mates; his children… everyone gone…”

The Doctor stopped and turned toward her, his eyes haunted by the parallels of Zoorgraps’ story and his own.

The similarities were not lost on Rose either. “He feels like he’s to blame, yeah, ‘cause he couldn’t stop it. He feels like he can’t ever go home again… He doesn’t think he deserves a second chance or that he’ll ever find love again.” She grasped the Doctor’s hand.  “But I told him…,” she cast her eyes downward, unable to meet the Time Lord’s gaze, “…that, while no one could ever _completely_ fill the hole left by his family, some people might just come along that could make it a little less deep, and maybe make a place for themselves in his heart…”

With a huff, the Doctor continued on toward the TARDIS, dismissing her entreaties with a curt shake of his head.

“Please! Is there nothing we can do?”

Abruptly, he stopped again and spoke gruffly: “What would you have me do, Rose?”

Her thumb flew to her lips and she nibbled indecisively on the nail. “I dunno… convince ‘em that he’d be better off on his home planet. You said before that his people, they’re peaceful, yeah. They must have loads of ways to help him that he could never get in a prison on some human-run penal colony.”

“Humph…”

“I’ve seen those places… you showed me. How could they even begin to know how to help him in a place like that?  Please, Doctor…” She fluttered her lashes at him and put on an unrestrained show of what she hoped were her most beseeching expressions.

“That won’t work on me anymore, you,” he admonished, pointedly tapping his temple with a humourless grimace. “No more aphrodisiac to muddle up my thoughts.”

Despite his claims, she persisted with her efforts, entreating him with sad smiles and puppy-dog eyes.

“Oh, alright! We’ll go back,” he finally relented. “But no guarantees.”

“Yes!” she squeaked triumphantly. She began to lean in on her toes to deliver the Doctor a peck on the cheek, but was brought up short by the grim, icy look in his eyes.

He turned away from her, beginning the trek back along the main street, toward the police station.

\--oOo--

It was a silent walk back to the TARDIS. The Doctor’s hands remained firmly stuffed inside his pockets, and his strides were long and determined. Rose struggled to keep up. While she was feeling chuffed at their success in convincing the local authorities to permit Zoorgraps to be transferred back to his home planet, she was very concerned about the Doctor: he was taciturn and closed off, resolutely not making eye contact and keeping a significant distance between them.

“Doctor…?” she surged ahead to walk by his side as they approached the time ship. “I just wanted to thank you for doing that for Zoorgraps.  It means a lot, ya know. You didn’t need to–”

“Yeah, I didn’t _need_ to! And don’t you forget it!” he cut her off with a snarl.

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Like you don’t know.”

“No, actually I don’t! Care to enlighten me?” she snapped back, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Trying to take advantage of me while you thought I was still under the influence of that drug. ‘Oh, please, Doctor…’” his voice rose to a girlish pitch as he imitated her. “And the big, sad eyes and eyelash fluttering... Pathetic apes. You’re all the same, thinking sex is the solution to everything.”

“I can’t believe what I’m hearin’!  That’s not fair! I would never…” Her voice trailed away. She _had_ taken advantage when they were being attacked at their table in the restaurant, but she had been at her wits’ end. “Well… when Zoorgraps was attacking us, I needed you to get us down from there, so maybe I _did_ take some liberties… but it was so we wouldn’t be _killed…!_ ”

He gave a self-satisfied snort.

“What? D’ya think I felt good about it? And, by the way, before, when I was tryin’ to get you to talk to the police about Zoorgraps… I _knew_ … I _knew_ you weren’t drugged anymore. So don’t you go accusin’ me of takin’ advantage of you! You have no right!” She stormed ahead of him, unlocking the TARDIS and thrusting the doors open as she stepped into the warm, greenish glow.

Following her in, he shut the doors firmly behind him. “Go pack your things. I’m taking you home.”

Her jaw dropped. “Think you’re goin’ to try that again? Leavin’ me behind? Didn’t work out so well las’ time, did it?” She shook her head incredulously. “Is this what’s gonna happen every time we row? You gonna threaten to drop me off or… or leave me behind?”

“It’s not a threat. It’s a decision. I’ve lived for over nine hundred years without you, thank you very much! I’m sure I’ll manage the next nine hundred. Now, go pack,” he growled. “And you can give me back that key.”

Rose was stunned, her heart broken, as she fumbled incredulously for the key that dangled from a chain around her neck. Her lower lip trembled as she placed it into the Doctor’s waiting, open hand. Tears pooled in her eyes. “Doctor…” she whispered.

“Go!” he commanded, pocketing the key and turning away from her, toward the TARDIS console.

She dragged her feet to the passageway that led to her room, turning back hesitantly before proceeding. “Jus’ so you know… in the restaurant… I – I never said _anything_ I didn’t mean. I’m sorry that happened to you. I’m just… I’m sorry.” She continued slowly down the hall.

Several long seconds later, the Doctor’s voice brought her to a halt: “Wait, Rose! Wait!”

She turned to find him standing at the entrance to the passageway, silhouetted by the glow of the TARDIS’ central column, and she stepped back toward him, eyes downturned.

His hand gently cupped her cheek, tipping her head up so their eyes would meet, and she lost herself in the blue depths, in the insecurities and fears he so rarely allowed her to see. Then she felt him press the TARDIS key into her palm. “Promise me, Rose, you’ll try to stay safe. And not wander off…”

She rolled her damp eyes at him, snorting sarcastically, “Yeah, right.”

“Rose…” he reproached under his breath, his eyes brimming with unshed tears.

Swallowing hard, forcing back her own tears, she muttered: “Valentine’s really _is_ a rubbish celebration, yeah?”

He brightened, chuckling. “I don’t think much of it, myself, but I’ll tell you what: let’s make the most of it!” He clapped his hands, rubbing them together in delight. “What do you say we watch one of your silly rom-coms tonight? Just you and me, some popcorn, and some really great hot chocolate… minus the aphrodisiac?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Placing a hand on either side of her head, he gently pulled her face towards his and firmly kissed her forehead. When he pulled away, his eyes roamed her face as though memorizing it, and he smiled tenderly.

“Do you mind if I have a shower first, get in my jimjams?”

“Nah, you go ahead. I’ll get everything set up. Meet me in the entertainment room in twenty.”

Rose skipped away toward her room, spinning to grin back at him every few steps until the passageway bent and she couldn’t see him anymore.

\--oOo--

Half an hour later, Rose came out of her ensuite, hair damp and dressed in cozy pyjamas. Her eyes were immediately drawn to a huge, glittering, tulle-wrapped package, sitting amongst the pillows on her bed. She burst into delighted laughter and scurried over to open it. Inside was a bouquet of a dozen red, Verdurian everlasting roses in a no-spill vase; an enormous box of fudge and a box of chocolates, both from the Cupid’s Arrow; a scrolled piece of parchment tied with a red ribbon; and a hand-written note:

_There you go, Rose: chocolates and roses and (not very poetic, me but…) a dumb poem too. Sorry I put you through all of that, today. You deserve better. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: ‘I’m so glad I met you.’_

_Happy Valentine’s Day,_

_~The Doctor_

Carefully untying the ribbon from around the parchment, Rose unfurled the paper to read the poem:

_Rose, you’re fantastic!_

_The TARDIS is blue,_

_And all space and time_

_Is better with you._

With a huge grin, she grabbed the fudge and the chocolate, and humming a cheerful tune, danced down the hall to the entertainment room. Maybe, she thought to herself, Valentine’s Day wasn’t completely rubbish after all, as long as she was willing to do as Zoorgraps had suggested: accept what was right in front of her. Although the Doctor was not exactly her “boyfriend” (he was so much better than that!), and their relationship would probably never be conventional, she realized all that didn’t matter. Her search for one decent bloke was over, and had been for a long time.


End file.
